


The Darkness Hums

by firehawk05



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:13:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firehawk05/pseuds/firehawk05
Summary: Written for 31 days May 14 theme: the darkness hums.  Rated because the Charles in my head swears somewhat. Set somewhere post Cuba, possibly post Apocalypse. Charles is in a wheelchair and Erik is back in the mansion. They are together. I’m not entirely sure when this scene takes place apart from that. Fluffy fic.





	The Darkness Hums

 

A dim drizzly morning. One where the sun has probably decided to pull a thick cloud comforter over it's metaphorical head and sleep in.

 

Blast these early classes. Charles thinks blearily as he scrabbles for the bleeping alarm clock.  

 

Bleeping. An adjective for the noise of the alarm. Most certainly not a swear word and therefore allowed. Even with the students.

 

It's not like they have any other telepath in residence at the moment what with Jean gone home for the term break. Surely he can cut himself some slack.

 

It’s also way too early for a semantic argument, he thinks, heaving himself into the wheelchair and piloting it to the toilet, snagging a fluffy white bathrobe off a hook on the door as he goes, especially since no matter how well he argues with himself, he’s bound to lose.   

 

He braces himself and shoves the heavy door open, his wheelchair rocking dangerously. He sighs at the jolt that comes from powering his wheels overt the low curb into the bathroom, before he’s squeaking his away across the tiled floor towards the tub.  There’s a little more fumbling for a tap before the room fills with the blessed sound of hot water gurgling and gushing into the tub.

 

It's still dark out. He knows he should have switched on the lights but they haven't gotten round to lowering the switch and he doesn't quite feel like stretching right now.

 

They’re going to have to renovate. He’s told himself that many times over the years after Cuba but somehow, he’s never quite gotten round to actually doing it.  

 

The shadows pool in the corners of the room. Dark, but somehow comforting in their familiarity. It's his house, even if it does have too many sticky, creaking doors, curbs in toilets and too high light switches and all.  Even if not all the memories here are good.

 

His reflection in the mirror is dim and vague. He will probably have to have some sort of illumination to shave by if he doesn't want to slit his throat.

 

But that will be a problem for later.

 

Not for the first time in his life does he wish he had a something in the way of telekinesis.

 

For now. He’ll just be thankful that he knows the bathroom well enough to wing it by feel.

 

That thought comes just before he knocks over the toothbrush and cup with a loud clatter. Which just covers his swearing. Reflexively he sends out tendrils of thought cautiously feeling for other minds which he may have inadvertently roused in the vicinity. He’s particularly tired of the others treating him like he’s too handicapped to bloody brush his own teeth.

 

He’s not sure if he should be thankful or annoyed that whatever minds he does reach are still asleep. Presumably, they need less time to get ready for class.  Or more likely, he thinks, sighing to himself, they’re all going to be late.

 

He fumbles the cup upright just as hears the sound of a rapidly filling tub and decides that he can damn well brush his teeth after his bath.

 

As he wiggles out of his boxers the darkness hums. Appreciatively.

 

There a rustle of movement and then a familiar presence floods into his brain.

 

“Jesus Christ Erik would you warn a body! And why are you lurking in my bathroom like a pervert?”

 

“I was just about to use the loo when you came barging in. You’d think a telepath would learn to knock or something.”

 

“This is my house. My bath. Why should I knock.”

 

“More importantly why are you fumbling around in the bloody dark.”

_Just cause you’re wheelchair bound doesn’t mean you can’t still fall in the bath._

 

“It's not my fault that I can't reach the switch.” Charles mumbles.

_Quit mother henning me.  I was perfectly fine until you decided to…_

 

Water splashes over the edge of the bath.  

 

Charles swears and Erik sighs, miming a twisting motion.

 

There’s a brief silence as they glare at each other.  Or at least in the general direction of each other.

 

“Thank you Erik.  May I continue my morning ablutions which you interrupted?”

 

“Of course Charles.”  

 

The tub steams invitingly.  Charles resolutely ignores Erik, reaches out to test the water.  It’s lovely and just a shade short of too hot. Just the way he likes it.  

 

“I’ll have you know, you turned on the cold tap the first time.” Erik’s tone is deceptively casual.

 

“Nothing wrong with a cold bath in the morning.  Very refreshing. Good for waking up.” Charles’ knows for a fact that his accent at that point could have cut glass.  And betrays nothing.

 

“Oh.  Really.”

 

Yet, even as he levers his spindly legs into the bathtub, he can sense Erik’s toothy face-splitting grin.  Even without looking. Even in the gloom of the bathroom.

 

Simply by virtue of the fact that the man was radiating smug, delighted evil in the megawatt range.  

 

As the flush of embarrassment spreads over his cheeks he knows that he’s lost. And that Erik knows it.

 

_Nothing you want to tell me?_

 

 _Fine.  Thank you Erik._ But there’s a hint of fondness and exasperation in his sending. _I’m never going to live this one down am I._

 

_No.  You’re not._

 

"I’ll go make breakfast. God only knows what you’ve been subsisting on without me."

 

"Marmite is very nutritious. Lots of B vitamins"

 

"Not the way you eat it straight out of the bottle. "

 

 _You can thank me later._ Erik projects. _Will you be alright getting out of the tub._

 

Slightly mollified by the heat of the bath, Charles murmurs into his mind _. I should be fine.  But if you want to help you can push the wooden stool there nearer so I can lift myself onto it and then out of the tub, onto the chair._

 

Erik grumbles as he tries to lift the stool with his powers and then realizes that there isn’t enough metal to lift it with. Still grumbling he shoves it towards Charles with his foot.

 

_Oh and Erik.  Help me switch on the lights on the way out?_

 

As he turns to leave, there’s a light touch, a sort of mental equivalent of a tentative caress.  

 

_I have a free slot between classes over lunch, if you’re still… interested. To better thank an old friend._

 

That prompts a surge of avidity over the link which is closely followed by a burst of amusement before Charles laughs and shuts it down as the bathroom lights come on and the door clicks shut.  

 

_Love you. Even if you are such an idiot sometimes._

 

_Shut up Erik._


End file.
